


Sleepless Nights Run In The Family

by lil_lost_kitten



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Incest, M/M, Oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-06-01
Updated: 2007-06-01
Packaged: 2020-01-07 01:20:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18400226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lil_lost_kitten/pseuds/lil_lost_kitten
Summary: Dean's been having trouble sleeping recently and he's really struggling to fathom his brother's mood-swings. Not that he's one to complain about it... after all, they do have their advantages.





	Sleepless Nights Run In The Family

Static flicker through gauzy curtains, the motel sign reflected its faint neon glow over the crumpled bed sheets. A fan whirred quietly in the stuffy atmosphere, blades spinning shadows over warm skin, their macabre dance alternately casting his face into light and shadow. In the balmy silence he was reassured by its constant hum harmonising with his brother’s gentle breathing.

Lying awake in the humid dusk, he sighed to himself and shifted slightly against the headboard. Technically, he should be asleep by now. He’d never had much trouble drowsing off before. It was all part of the routine; return to motel after hard day’s work; shower; fuck; cuddle; sleep. Maybe the heat was getting to him… maybe something else.

Whatever it was, Dean envied the ease with which his brother succumbed to sleep. A few weeks back their roles had been reversed: Sam waking constantly in the middle of the night with those bad dreams of his. Now the dreams had become less frequent and his sleep patterns more regular. Only now it was Dean who couldn’t close his eyes without jolting awake again.

The fluorescent light reflecting dully in his jade-green eyes, he smiled slightly and ran his fingers through Sam’s tousled hair. The college-boy looked so peaceful lying there; his floppy bangs curling over closed eyes. Deceptive, Dean thought. Anyone who knew Sam, really knew him, would know there was a whole lot more than geeky sweetness under that comical fringe. For one, the guy was an animal in bed! Dean chuckled to himself, re-living the events of the previous evening.

* * *

It had always been hard to cheer up the kid when he was in one of his self-obsessed moods. Trying to talk to Sam almost always resulted in a fight, whilst leaving him alone to brood was always a mistake. Dean couldn’t stand the reproachful glances and sulky demeanour. His little brother just wasn’t any fun when he was moping about the past.

Arriving back late at the motel, Sam immediately slumped in a chair and crossly tugged off his t-shirt. The evening humidity managed to seep into everything. Dean avoided any open conflict by being the first to slip into the small shower-room. It gave him time to think over his plan.

Tipping the turban off his head and towelling off his shower-moistened hair, the older Winchester hooked his discarded jeans up off the bathroom floor. Absentmindedly, he slipped into them, tugged on an okay-smelling t-shirt from the laundry pile and walked out into the darkened bedroom. He collapsed onto the mattress of his single bed and stretched. The springs squeaked as he rolled onto his side and stared across the room.

“Hey, Sam. Pass the remote.”

Still slouched in the chair by the window, Sam scooped the TV control off the nightstand and sullenly tossed it onto the bed. ‘So much for shaking off the bad mood,’ Dean thought. With a sigh he pulled himself up off the mattress and walked over to Sam. Crouching by the chair, he gazed at the college-boy’s troubled frown and the mass of brown locks that hung in front of his eyes. Sometimes he longed to shake the guy and tell him to pull himself together, but could never bring himself to do it.

Laying one hand on his brother’s shoulder, Dean tilted Sam’s face up and looked into his eyes. They glistened with unshed tears. Dean’s breath caught in his throat. This wasn’t right. Sam didn’t cry; he was meant to be the strong stoic one.

Brow creased in frustration, Sam pulled his head back and turned his gaze away to hide the tears. There was a moment of uncomfortable silence before the younger Winchester glanced back at his brother. He self-consciously chewed on his bottom lip as one solitary tear trailed down his cheek. Sniffing back a choking sob, he embarrassedly wiped it away.

Not knowing what to say, Dean reached up to brush Sam’s fringe out of the way, leaned forward and kissed him. His soft lips moving tenderly over those of the shaggy-haired brunette, hesitantly at first then growing in intensity as his tongue slipped between the other’s parted lips. Sam made no move to pull away but simply submitted to the kiss.

Dean was unsure whether to close his eyes or keep them open. He’d never been the one to initiate the first move and suddenly felt a great deal of uncertainty. Should he start unzipping Sam’s jeans… tug him onto the mattress… simply caress him? Heck, this thought-process was time-consuming. It required subtlety. Dean didn’t  _do_  subtlety! Part of him wished Sam would take the lead as he always did: ripping Dean’s clothes off and pulling them both to the bed. It was straightforward enough to be submissive. It was even simple to give instructions to his ‘Bitch’ when he felt like it. But this was all new to him.

Slowly, the green-eyed Winchester ran his fingers through Sam’s tangled locks. Breaking the passionate kiss, he nudged his lover’s face to the side, planting eager kisses along his neck. Sam’s skin smelt faintly of soap and seat-leather. It was an added bonus, mixing another two of Dean’s favourite things: showers and his beloved car. Somewhat turned on by this realisation, he arched up urgently to nibble on an exposed earlobe but missed his target and clumsily slipped back.

Sliding down Sam’s lean chest, his t-shirt crumpled up and a cool draft blew over his exposed torso. He shivered slightly and a warm hand reached out to support him, fingertips momentarily gliding over bare skin and thumbing his waistband.

Confidence restored by Sam’s soft guiding touch, Dean continued the downward slide till he was kneeling on the floor between his brother’s legs. Impatient fingers fumbling at the button of Sam’s jeans, he glanced up at his lover and noted the steady stream of tears now falling from the other’s closed eyes. Dammit, why’d the kid need to break now? Positioning his right hand comfortingly in Sam’s, he managed to manoeuvre the fly down with his free hand and tug down both pants and briefs to reveal Sam’s cock. Wetting his lips, Dean gently enveloped the head with his open mouth and massaged it calculatingly with his tongue.

“Dean…”

A shallow gasp came from above and the younger Winchester groaned audibly as his partner’s mouth closed around him. Dean stifled a chuckle. He’d be damned if this didn’t cheer the melancholy bastard up!

As he sucked steadily, Sam grew hard and began to shift around in the chair, fingernails digging into Dean’s palms. Removing moist lips from around his brother’s cock with a disconcerting slurp, he ran the point of his tongue from base to tip and grinned up at the college-boy. Sam’s face had turned a rosy shade and his breath panted raggedly through slightly parted lips. Dean regarded him with an air of fondness. The guy had that idiotic smile on his face again. Well, at least the tears had dried up.

Just then, Sam came. Caught somewhat unawares, Dean narrowly avoided getting an eyeful by squinting at the last moment.

“Aww, Dude…give me  _some_  warning would ya!”

Staring accusingly, Dean attempted to scrape the mess out of his hair with his fingers but only succeeded in matting his fringe to his forehead. Sam scrutinised his lover as he reclined on the chair, a smirk tweaking the corners of his mouth. Sometimes it really did feel as if the college-boy did these things on purpose. Sam pulled himself up from the chair, staggered a few steps and flopped down on the bed. Shaking his head, Dean sucked off his fingers and continued awkwardly mopping at his fringe.

“C’mere…”

A hand mussed through his spiky hair and then tugged at his shirtfront. The next thing he knew Sam was yanking him up onto the mattress. There was little Dean could do as the taller Winchester pinned him to the duvet, licked one palm and pulled up Dean’s t-shirt. Sam’s roaming hand soon slipped under his waistband and he tensed as his brother’s lithe fingers wrapped around his dick.

“Talk about mood swings…” Dean commented sarcastically under his breath.

“ _What_  was that?” Sam purred back, running his free index and middle fingers over the perfect contours of his brother’s lips.

“Guuu….uh. Nuthin’.”

To stifle his own less-than-manly whimpers Dean greedily latched on to the two fingers offered. Fuck! After being on the road for nearly a week, this was heaven. Hurried blowjobs in the backseat didn’t come near to a worthy comparison. It felt like minor shockwaves were running up his spine and accumulating ready to explode in his brain. Wondered if there was any substance in the theory that a guy’s brain resides in his cock. Hmm, possibly. Something that might need a bit more research. A  _lot_  more research. Just to be sure. Okay. Getting tough to think straight. Mind… Distraction… Not… Wor-king.

Releasing his death-grip on the bed sheets, Dean pried Sam’s fingers from his mouth. Gripping the back of Sam’s neck, he brought the other’s face to within inches of his own. His breath still trembling, Dean leant in close to his brother’s ear.

“Fuck me now, Bitch!” he growled impatiently.

He was sure he saw Sam’s eyes sparkle wickedly in the gloom. Bloody hell, the guy was just a bundle of contradictions: all emotional one moment, raging Casanova the next. There were some things Dean would never understand about his partner. But for now at least, he didn’t care.

Sam’s strokes stopped as he freed up both hands to tug off Dean’s pants and then moved onto his own. Dean took the chance to roll onto his side and scrabbled in the bedside drawer for the lubricant. He wasn’t about to allow Sam to get ahead of himself again. Last time that had happened things had gotten really uncomfortable. He inwardly winced at the memory and chucked the tube in Sam’s direction.

The younger Winchester caught it and continued clambering out of his pants… somewhat too slowly for Dean’s liking.

“Man, would you  _hurry up_!”

“Mmm hmm… just a minute.”

The guy was sure taking his sweet time; making a show of wriggling out of his boxers and squeezing the lube out into his palm. Dean was of half a mind to go over and  _make_  the idiot speed up, but with his current hard-on he doubted his legs would manoeuvre him in the right direction.

“Saaaammy!” Dean antagonised.

Glaring irritably at his brother, Sam flung the tube on the floor and pounced back onto Dean.

“I told you not to call me that!”

Dean was winded as Sam’s elbow connected with his ribcage and he was once more pinned beneath the college-boy’s lean body. Flinching as a new bruise was added to his collection of battle-scars, he smirked cockily and raised his hands in defeat.

Sam was quick to forgive and soon his slender fingers were penetrating Dean’s warm entry. The older Winchester could only moan as his sibling pleasured him, finally coming as Sam substituted slick fingers for his erection.

Grasping hold of Sam’s shoulders, Dean pressed back into the softness of the sheets. Sam only closed the gap again, leaning forward to ghost a breath over Dean’s neck. His reassuring soapy smell had been replaced by the scents of sex and sweat. There was still a hint of leather but now all Dean could think of was the distinct smell of a cheap sex shop. Namely, the small back street joint in Lawrence he’d frequented as a teenager. He remembered trying to hide his ‘top-secret’ porn from Sam. Looking back on all that, it seemed rather ironic; Sam had turned out more of a fag than he had been in the end. Remembering this, Dean choked out a muffled snigger.

“Hey Jerk, what’s with the laughs?”

Dean hadn’t even felt his brother finish. Dammit. Sam looked quite pissed as he pulled out and sat back on the bedcover. Grinning guiltily, Dean lifted himself up on his elbows.

“Hmm, nah. No matter. It was nuthin’.”

“You weren’t paying attention, were you?”

Dean thought about this for a moment then shook his head.

“Nope”

Lacking the energy to body-tackle his older brother for the misdemeanour, Sam gave Dean an irritated glare and crawled under the covers. He appeared up the opposite end of the bed to rest his head on the pillow and peered out at Dean. He sighed huffily and tried to shove his offending partner off of the mattress.

“Go on then… git’ outta here!”

“Aww, c’mon.”

Blinking his pretty green eyes, Dean reached under the covers and playfully swatted at Sam’s feet.

“Doesn’t Sammy-wammy want cuddles before beddy-byes?”

A well-aimed kick toppled him off the edge of the bed to land in a heap on the floor. Sighing and rubbing at his bruises, Dean picked himself up and went to sit on the edge of his own bed. Well, at least Sam was back to his good ol’ self again. He may be as bitchy as ever, but at least he wasn’t all melancholy. Dean sat there until Sam drifted off and then crept in under the blanket next to his brother. 

* * *

Glancing up at the purring blades of the fan, Dean felt his eyelids getting heavy. He yawned and looked back out the window. The first rays of morning sun were fracturing the night’s sky. In the distance some small bird twittered anxiously.

‘A fine time to start feeling sleepy,’ Dean thought to himself. He craned his neck to peer around the window frame to where the Impala sat dreaming to herself in the car park. It seemed everyone was having a good night’s rest apart from him! He dreaded the thought of another day’s driving without a wink of sleep, so he cosied down next to his brother’s snoozing form and closed his eyes.

In the early hours of morning, Dean Winchester finally drifted off into a deep, untroubled sleep. After all, the next day there’d be things to hunt, people to save and doubtlessly more ‘family business’ to deal with.

**Author's Note:**

> A Dean-centric fic set during the first half of S1 of 'Supernatural'. Not any spoilers that I can think of, unless you've never watched any of the show. This fic was strongly inspired by ponderosa121's beautiful artwork 'Damned If We Do'.


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